Say It Loud
by Paceismyhero
Summary: "I want you to promise me something. If you love someone, you tell them. Even if you're scared that it's not the right thing. Even if you're scared that it will cause problems. Even if you're scared that it will burn your life to the ground ... you say it. And you say it loud. And then you go from there." Oneshot prompt fic set after Quinn's accident in 3x14. Please read & review!


**Author's Note:** I know, I know. I've been gone forever after I said I wouldn't leave. I really have no excuse, other than a lack of motivation and a bit of a crisis of heart. I'm still not even sure I should post this (for many reasons, one being that I'm not sure if anyone is even still around to read it), but alas here I am.

This was a prompt fic given to me by someone (sorry; it's been so long that I can't even remember anymore) who reviewed my last story, based on a YouTube clip that I've now lost. I know. I'm on fire right now. I did, however, put the quote it was inspired from at the end (_Disclaimer:_ I don't own it. Again, I can't remember what show it came from, but it's theirs and not mine. So don't sue!). As the summary says, this takes place in canon, immediately following Quinn's car accident from season 3, episode 14.

Please let me know what you think, good or bad (I'm actually really interested in any feedback, mostly because I considered a lot of different scenarios for the quote; there were a lot of moments in time I could have picked to manipulate, both from Rachel's and Puck's POV, so I'd love to know if you thought I chose right or if there would have been a better moment you would have liked me to woven differently with the same prompt). Regardless, I hope you enjoy it. And, as always, thank you!

* * *

Rachel sighed heavily when Quinn's mother exited the hospital room quietly, telling those still sitting in the nearby waiting room that her daughter needed to rest and to go home. Brittany and Santana walked down the brightly lit corridor with their arms around one another, their pink dresses blinding Rachel as she blankly watched the pair. Outside of the former Cheerios, she was the only one left hoping for some alone time with Quinn. Everyone had rushed to the hospital the second the paramedics had called Rachel's phone - her number was the last used on the blonde's damaged cell phone. But, after time spent waiting for the road crews to claw Quinn from her car and then hours of surgery, few had stayed much longer past when the doctor had come out to tell them she would (eventually) make a full recovery.

The faint hint that Quinn might return to school as anything less than the perfect, blonde head cheerleader she always had been (even when she wasn't _technically_ a Cheerio) threatened to suffocate Rachel. She felt breathless every time the haunting thought crossed her mind, which unfortunately was often given how responsible she felt for the blonde's current situation. While Rachel had pledged long ago to never risk her life for something as trivial as texting while driving, she hadn't considered the consequences of knowingly engaging in a conversation with someone who was behind the wheel. Somehow, maybe just because of what had happened, it seemed worse; it wasn't as if everything would be perfect, right, but maybe if she hadn't been pestering Quinn via text, then everything wouldn't feel so, _so_ wrong.

"Noah," she breathed urgently, surprised to see his slumped form by the hospital exit. He'd left along with Finn and everyone else a few hours ago, though without the plea to keep him informed of any new developments. In fact, if she really thought about it, she wasn't sure she could remember him uttering even one word the entire time they'd all been sitting in the waiting room - or even at the (non) wedding.

Puck cursed to himself, knowing it was stupid not to expect her to approach him but wishing he'd come up with a valid reason for sticking around for so long outside of his own guilty conscience. "How's Q?"

"Fine." She frowned. "Resting." Her gaze fell to the sidewalk, staring at the plain white flats her father had brought her along with a change of clothes after she'd declared she was going to stay longer; absently, she wondered if she should have been more specific in how he should treat the wedding gown he'd taken back home with him. "Her mother asked us to leave for the night."

"She's a bitch," he stated, mostly to set Rachel's mind at ease. It was true, sure, but it wasn't the kind of thing to say when the chick's daughter was sitting in a hospital bed. It was, however, the kind of thing you said when the voice of the girl in front of you quivered because she thought it was a personal attack and a subtle way of saying all the terrible things she was no doubt thinking. "We'll come back tomorrow."

Her eyes rose hesitantly, afraid she'd heard a truce in his tone that wasn't there. No one had outright blamed Rachel - other than herself - but it still felt nice to know someone was on her side. Even if that someone was Noah, who, in her mind, should probably be most upset with her. "Are you okay?"

He actually snorted out a laugh, shrugging one of his shoulders. To outsiders he probably looked exactly how he should, but it wasn't for the right reasons, which was why he felt worse.

"I can listen, i-if you want to talk about it."

"You're the last person I'd tell."

Her face fell at his words, her eyes immediately following suit as tears stung at the corners. It was such a reflexive statement, so true to the core that it seemed to slap her across the face worse than the brisk late-winter air. She wrapped her arms around herself, fending off the wind and any more emotional abuse before she addressed him again. "I'm sorry, Noah."

Puck started to walk away, his fists clenched at his sides. He wanted to put her mind at ease once more, but he couldn't do it this time. Explaining himself would only makes things worse, which shouldn't even be a damn option given everything that was going on. But, regardless, it would. And he couldn't risk it - no matter how badly he wished that weren't true. If not for the obvious reasons, then for how much of an asshole it made him.

"I know we haven't spoken much this year - regrettably so - but we're friends." She bit the inside of her lip, a distinct memory flashing through her mind as she followed his retreat. "Aren't we?"

"Yeah," he scoffed, not turning back as he continued toward his car. "Friends."

"I understand your motivations for keeping your feelings so heavily guarded, but I'd like the opportunity to help you the way you've helped me so many times in the past."

He scoffed again, so close to sanctuary that the tops of his legs brushed against the frame of his car when he turned to face her. "You gonna say no like I did if I proposition ya for sex?"

Rachel blinked in confusion, standing on the curb by his car and bypassing the memory he'd planted for a completely different one. She'd remarked last year when he'd driven her home after Sue's sister's funeral that the car needed cleaned and it seemed her advice would hold as true today as it had then; it looked completely out of place next to his cleaned up appearance. He'd shed the suit jacket from the ensemble and loosened the tie haphazardly, but he still looked so perfect that it was hard to remember she wasn't supposed to be thinking such thoughts - and for more reasons than it was a hospital parking lot.

Focusing back on his offhanded question and the implications of such, she furrowed her brows and answered with her own question. "What does this have to do with Finn?"

"Nothing," he answered quickly, shaking his head as he dug his keys out of his pocket. He needed to leave, and fast. "I'll see ya tomorrow."

"No," she demanded softly, stepping off her perch onto the parking lot pavement to reach for him. Her hand curled around the sleeve of his arm, tightening to turn him back around toward her. "It meant something."

"I gotta go."

"Noah …"

"Get away from the car, Rach," he gritted out, managing to open the door with her still basically clawing at his arm. His head was pounding as hard as his heart, his whole body twitching in anticipation of the explosion he could feel building up inside him. He'd kept it hidden for so long, allowed it to bubble under the surface for _too_ long.

"Driving in your condition would be just as reckless as Quinn's texting. So, excuse me, but I refuse to let you get into this car until we talk about this."

"Berry …"

"I'm serious, Noah."

He growled in exasperation. "You wanna know what I'm feeling?"

"Yes."

"Do ya?"

"Yes!" She all-but yelled, matching the ferocity of his tone to further prove she wasn't going to back down.

"Fine." He blew out a hard breath. "Relieved. Okay? I feel _relieved_."

His eyes were hard on her and she couldn't for the life of her figure out why or if she should look away. She just continued to stare at him, allowed their heavy breaths to mix between the two of them as she considered his words. Everyone was relieved to know Quinn was alive and relatively well; it didn't make any sense for that emotion to cause so much secrecy in him, nor could Rachel figure out what that had to do with Finn.

"It sucks Q got hurt and I'm glad she's gonna be cool or whatever, but all I felt when we found out was lucky." He shut his eyes tight, knowing how much of a dick he sounded like, but couldn't help but complete his confession. "Lucky I wasn't the one who had to stop the wedding." Going for broke, he spoke over her obvious shock to put the final nail in the coffin. "You _can't_ marry him."

Rachel gasped, her eyes following his form helplessly as he backed into the driver seat and carefully sped away. She stood there for what felt like an eternity, absently calling her father for a ride while she replayed Noah's outburst in her head over and over again. She'd known him longer than everyone else, and while their paths had diverged somewhere near puberty, she still felt she knew him pretty well - maybe even better than most since she was more often privy to his softer side. And with his confession echoing in her mind, as well as the implications of such, she now understood just why she'd seen less and less of him lately. _Why_ he'd been trying to push her further and further away.

The only thing she hadn't yet pinpointed (which was frustrating considering she'd randomly been trying for months, if not longer) was why she'd missed him so much.

"Hi, Pumpkin." Rachel's father LeRoy opened her car door from the inside, smiling softly as she climbed into the passenger seat and buckled her seatbelt. "How's Quinn?"

"She's resting," she answered vacantly, feeling even more guilty about the blonde's condition now that she'd spent at least ten minutes completely ignoring it. "I hope to visit with her tomorrow."

"None of this is your fault, dear," he reminded gently, turning onto the main road toward their house. She could feel his eyes on her, and squirmed in response to the awkward conversation she knew they were about to have; it had been so weird for her to make so many big decisions without her fathers support. They were more like friends to her than just her parents, and she needed them more than ever now. "What's on your mind, honey?"

"Do you think the accident was a sign?" She angled her body to face him better, her eyes hesitantly lifting from her lap. "Do you think it happened to stop me from marrying Finn?"

"Is that what you think?"

She sighed heavily, knowing he was avoiding answering only because he'd already made his opinion about the marriage very clear. And even though he thought it had all rung on deaf ears, Rachel had heard him. She'd heard both her fathers and everyone else who'd been against the union. And the more time that had passed, the more those whispers of doubt added to the cacophony of uncertainty swirling inside her head. Deep down, she knew there were a thousand different reasons her and Finn shouldn't get married, but right then Rachel couldn't help but focus on one - one that she'd almost refused to think about just because of what it would mean.

"I think … I think I wanted Quinn at the wedding so badly because she was so against it and then came around, and … and I thought that if she could have such an extreme change of heart, then maybe it was a good idea, the right decision."

"So you've been having second thoughts?"

Rachel frowned, staring back down at her lap, rather at the engagement ring perched on her left knee. She couldn't look away from the ring, the modest yet beautiful ring that seemed too small to mean _so_ much. She remembered Finn's proposal like it was yesterday, remembered how hopeful and focused he'd looked as he'd waited for her answer. It was the lightest expression she'd seen on his face in so long, and she so desperately hadn't wanted to be another thing going wrong in his life. And when her world seemed like it was starting to crumble around her, her decision had felt more and more like the right thing. With Finn as her rock, at least _everything_ wouldn't fall apart.

"I love Finn," she stated, not to convince her father or even herself, but mostly because she knew the next thing she was about to say wasn't going to sound good with the declaration. "But …" she sighed, not even sure how to explain everything going on in her head. How could everything be so messed up when just this morning everything had seemed perfectly on track?

"Can I share a story that I think might help?" He asked in way of interjection, waiting for Rachel to nod her head in affirmation. "You've heard the story of how your father and I became a couple, but neither of us have ever expressed just how difficult it had been before that moment."

LeRoy sighed heavily, pulling the car into the garage and parking it before turning in the driver seat and facing his daughter urgently. Rachel had never seen him so frazzled, which was saying something considering just how much she'd been responsible for wracking his nerves the last few weeks. Right then, his hands were shaking nearly as much as his voice had, and she oddly took comfort in the responses; sometimes it was nice to be reminded that parents and adults in general still experienced the same emotions that seemed to rule teenagers' lives.

"I met Hiram as a freshman in college, both of us pre-law. It was love at first sight, but I couldn't tell him that."

"Why not?"

"Before your father, I hadn't been in a real relationship … with a man." He bowed his head in shame. "I knew I was gay, but I hadn't come out. My parents were very traditional, and I knew they wouldn't approve."

"You can't change who you are."

"I know that. You know that, mostly because your father and I have raised you to understand something that _should_ be a simple fact. But … your grandparents didn't care, and, back then, I thought I could hide from it." LeRoy reached across the console, grabbing his daughter's hands. "I'd gotten fairly good at it, and I never anticipated it being any different with Hiram. But, as you know, his love is infectious. He pours it in everything he does and I _fell_ so hard, for him and just for how he lived." His hold strengthened even as his voice cracked. "And it wasn't fair, to him or to me, to have to hide our feelings for one another, so I took that leap."

A tear slid down his cheek, but he wiped away the one falling from Rachel's eye instead. "My family cut off all ties and we haven't spoken since, but I have _never_ regretted that decision."

There was so much conviction in his voice that Rachel could only nod her head, expressing just as much she believed him and his words. They'd spoken before about how much LeRoy wished his parents could be in the picture _for her_; he hated that she grew up without yet another staple relative missing from her childhood. But, honestly, Rachel never felt like she'd missed out on anything. She had more love and support between her two fathers than some children had their whole lives, and that was enough for her.

"So, I want you to promise me something." He shook his head, trying to clear the fog that had built up around them. "If you love someone, you tell them." He held her tighter, feeling her pull away in surprise. "Even if you're scared that it's not the right thing. Even if you're scared that it will cause problems. Even if you're scared that it will _burn your life to the ground_ … You say it and you say it loud." The corners of his mouth ticked up into a small smile, watching her eyes dance over him. "And then you go from there."

Rachel pulled her father close, hugging him tightly for at least three full minutes before they parted and exited the car. She wasn't sure _how_ her father could be so perceptive, but she appreciated the subtlety of his advice; it was assuring after all the back-and-forth they've gone through over the engagement and pending marriage that they could so easily shift back to the kind of relationship they used to have. The kind of relationship where she was comfortable coming to them about _anything_ and they always knew just what to say to help her figure out her problem without actually telling her how to solve it.

Wordlessly, she walked out of garage and down the driveway, her arms wrapped tightly around herself as the cold hit the thin layer of her clothing. If so much of her mind hadn't been occupied on her father's advice and just everything that had transpired in the past 24 hours, she might have been of the mind to grab a coat before starting her walk to nowhere in particular. Instead, all she could do was shiver as she wondered when everything got so messed up - or, maybe, how she'd been able to ignore the fact that it had been that way for so long. Because, in reality, none of it was sudden.

None of it really came as a surprise, except for Noah. He was the piece of the puzzle that she'd never expected, which was why it didn't really shock her that her meandering walk had ended at his doorstep. As always, his mother was beyond elated to see her, even at nearly eleven at night. Rachel tried to show as much enthusiasm for the older woman, but the nerves she felt at just seeing him in the woman's eyes made her hands shake. Her feet unsteadily led her up the stairs and toward his bedroom, one of the shaking hands knocking softly on the hard wood of the door before turning the knob after his bellowed reply.

"Hi," she greeted him nervously, her eyes shifting between his face and the casual placement of his hands on his guitar. She'd heard a few chords outside of his room, but she hadn't recognized the song. Now she'd wished he hadn't stopped playing, as the quiet echoing in the room wasn't helping to muffle the voices screaming inside her head. She might have only discovered that he may have had a purpose to avoiding her recently, but deep down she'd always known why she'd kept her distance from him, too.

Puck pushed the guitar off his lap, scooting up his bed until his legs had dropped enough that his feet were on the floor. Part of it was to busy himself, but the other part wanted to be sure this wasn't another dream. He'd had plenty of them about her since sophomore year and he'd learned a few tricks at recognizing them. Tonight, for instance, she wasn't wearing her necklace with the star of David on it. She also wasn't wearing the one with his best friend's name on it, though, so it felt a little like a trap.

"What are ya doin' here?"

Rachel fidgeted at his question, at the way he refused to show her any indication that he understood just what it meant for her to be in his room. Then again, part of her understood his reluctance to show any sign of hope. She'd gone back and forth with him more times than he probably even knew, and now she honestly didn't have an answer to his question; she hadn't meant to show up - certainly not this late - but she also couldn't imagine wanting or needing to be anywhere else. Not after what had happened, not after what he'd said.

"I didn't need three days this time."

It was such a simple statement, yet the impact of the words hit him like a ton of bricks. He'd been the unwilling witness to the Finchel show for as long as it had been going on, painfully so the past few weeks. And even though he'd kept his mouth shut about all the reasons he thought it was a terrible idea, the thing he _constantly_ thought about was how long it had taken Rachel to finally agree to that proposal. The girl wasn't impulsive in the least, but she was even less uncertain about the big things in her life. She'd had her damn life mapped out since she was like three years old, so Puck couldn't stop thinking about that three-day gap in the alleged happily ever after.

"I love you."

His statuesque reaction to her words was really the only indication of how heavy they were once said out loud. After holding them in for so long, masking them under a veil of friendship or religious connection, it surprised her how easily they came out. To push aside all the reasons to refute them or to be scared of them, and to just say it - and say it loud. It was liberating, Rachel feeling almost weightless as she glided closer to him and nearly floating above herself when his hands moved from their tight grip on the edge of his bed to caress the backs of her thighs, as if holding her in place.

Puck's head sagged forward, resting against her stomach as his eyes slipped closed and a long, heavy exhale of relief escaped his lungs. He'd been dealing with all his emotions on his own for so long that he couldn't even describe what it felt like to know she was there with him (in every aspect of the phrase), her hands rubbing soothingly over his shoulders and back while the tension he'd been holding onto for so long dripped off him. That she was willing to leave everything that was so plainly waiting for her on a silver platter and be with him, _love_ him, proved she was braver than he - even if it had been his courage (read: impulsiveness) that had been the catalyst for her decision.

"Me too," he replied gruffly, just in case it hadn't been obvious when he'd stuck his foot in his mouth earlier at the hospital.

She smiled softly at him when he tilted his head back, his usually dark gaze seemingly murkier than ever before but lighter somehow, too, with a bright twinkle that she'd never seen shining back at her. Their lips met briefly but powerfully, sealing a promise that while they both knew things were a long way from being easy - if things between them ever could be such - they'd at least crossed the first (major) hurdle. Together.

And then they'd go from there.

_"I want you to promise me something._  
_If you love someone, you tell them._  
_Even if you're scare that it's not the right thing._  
_Even if you're scared that it will cause problems._  
_Even if you're scared that it will burn your life to the ground ..._  
_You say it. And you say it loud._  
_And then you go from there."_


End file.
